Say My Name
by BlinkYourEyes
Summary: The story of how Rosie the stripper became Columbia the groupie. Rated M for later chapters.


**I do not own Rocky Horror or any of its characters. Richard O'Brien does.**

"Ay; Rosie!" Bruce Weller called from outside the dressing room, his knuckles knocking against the wooden door. Columbia quickly finished reapplying her lipstick, smacking her lips and looking herself over in the mirror one last time before standing up and throwing her slip on over her tight tank top and high waisted shorts. "Rosie! C'mon, we gotta show to run!" Bruce yelled, just as Columbia opened the door.

"Calm down; I ain't deaf!" Columbia replied, swatting at his chest as she walked past him. "Besides; ain't nobody here for me. It's all for the atmosphere!" She giggled, looking around at the bright lights of the strip club. Bruce rolled his eyes, patting Columbia's butt so that she'd move quicker as they entered a narrow hallway. "And that's not my name. I've told ya once; I've told ya a million times."

"Eh; who can keep track, ya know? Besides, I like your stage name better, anyway. It's pretty." Bruce shrugged, leading her stage left as they entered the backstage area. "You're on in three minutes." He patted her cheek and gave her a sly smile, before disappearing into the crowd of crewmembers.

Columbia fiddled with the silk belt of her slip, waiting for her cue when the music would die out and Trixie would step offstage left, give her a dirty look, and smirk at her. As if reading her thoughts, the tall, dark skinned, raven-haired dancer moved past the curtain and sneered at Columbia.

Sighing, Columbia rolled her shoulders back and cracked her neck, planting a smile on her face and pushing back the curtain. As soon as the music started, she opened her mouth, and her voice and body did the rest for her.

As she sang, she watched all the faces in the crowd as they observed her. All the men, and a few women, stared at her with hunger, their eyes following her every step that she took across the stage. Her eyes traced over every other pair she saw, and they stopped on a group of three.

One pair was a dull, lifeless brown. The hoods of his eyelids hung over his eyes as if he were about to fall asleep at any moment, and it seemed he had no interest in what Columbia was doing. He had stringy, graying blonde hair, and a large bald spot in the center of his head. There was a large hunch on his back, and one of his eyes twitched a little when he spoke. Feeling a bit discouraged by his complete disinterest in her dancing, Columbia switched her focus to the person next to him.

Coincidentally, this was the exact time that she shed her silk slip, and she saw the eyes of the woman next to the stringy haired man widen just a bit. The pupils of her eyes dilated, and her lips curled into a sultry smirk. Columbia grinned, pleased to be able to elicit such a reaction from even a woman. This particular woman had frizzy, unkempt, auburn hair that stuck out past her shoulders. Her eyelids seemed as though they felt heavy with lust, and her lips were a bright red, like Columbia's. Although there was something a bit off about the woman, Columbia found her strangely alluring, in a way.

Tearing her eyes from the woman, Columbia turned her gaze to the last person of the group, and she felt her breath stop. His eyes were so exceptionally brightly decorated in make up, and his smile as white as the stars in space. His curly black hair sat on top of his head, as if it had just been newly styled, and Columbia sent a wink his way. He was the most beautiful thing that she'd ever seen in her life. She watched as he threw his back and laughed, and the man and woman next to him chuckled lightly, even the ugly balding man.

Focusing back on her dance routine, Columbia lifted the hem of her tank top, and threw it over her head, leaving herself in only a wrap around bra and her high waisted shorts. She had kicked her shoes off at the beginning of the number, and her slip laid somewhere off stage. Whistles rang through her ears, and she smiled.

As the end of her number drew nearer, Columbia spread her legs down onto the floor in a split, leaning forward towards the crowd. Her voice rang out towards the three at the front, her eyes strictly focused on the man with the bright make up. Chuckling, Columbia rose off of the floor and turned to grab her shirt off of the floor, giving the crowd a clear view of her butt as she bent over. The tightness of her shorts increased, and framed her butt in a way that drove the crowd wild.

"Beautiful…" She heard the man with the make up mutter, and she turned to face him. Giving him a smile, Columbia began to make her way off stage as the music began to die down.

She hadn't, however, taken her eyes off of the man, and, not paying attention to what was in front of her, crashed right into Quinn, the next dancer. Insulted, Quinn shoved Columbia by the shoulder, sending the girl back a few steps. Feeling humiliated, Columbia furrowed her eyebrows and raised her hand, slapping the dark haired dancer right on the cheek. Not a moment later, the two were on stage, slapping each other around and pulling one another's hair. It wasn't long until Bruce raced on stage and pulled the two off of each other, his face outraged.

"Ay, ay! Cut it out!" He shouted, separating the two girls with his arms. The two were silent for a moment, before Columbia looked at Quinn, and Quinn silently mouthed the words, 'fuck you.' Without a moments hesitation, Columbia spit right in her face, and Quinn lunged at her. "Ay! Stop it!" Bruce screamed, stepping in between the two again. He turned towards Columbia, furious. "Enough shit, Rosie! You're fired!" He yelled, pointing a finger off stage.

Columbia froze, staring at him. In another minute, her foot connected with his groin. "That's not my name, jackass." She growled, turning and storming off stage.


End file.
